


countdown

by pinktaped



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Monsta X Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 22:05:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7701508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinktaped/pseuds/pinktaped
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by the world it’s been dubbed the ‘soulmate clock’, a timepiece inked into the skin of everyone’s inner wrists by fate itself. no one questions how it moves, or if it can be cut away, or how it knows when to end up at zero. it’s something that just is, as much of a law to life as needing to breathe and blinking one’s eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	countdown

**Author's Note:**

> nervously waddles in!  
> it's 4 am and im srry  
> my first submission for the monsta x fic bingo!  
> also my first monsta x fic in general rip in peace  
> also the first fic i've written since like two years ago rip in peace again  
> as a total sucker for angst i will make it a goal to write everything as emo as possible even the fluffiest of au's  
> i'm not sure how i feel about this but hopefully you think it's a-ok! thank you for reading!  
> !

20:12:14:02:23:49

it’s been there since birth.

the timer’s been there, faithfully counting down, just as everyone else’s has. seconds ticking by until some predetermined moment in which he meets the one he’s supposed to love, and the one that’s supposed to love him. 

by the world it’s been dubbed the ‘soulmate clock’, a timepiece inked into the skin of everyone’s inner wrists. no one questions how it moves, or if it can be cut away, or how it knows when to end up at zero. it’s something that just is, as much of a law to life as needing to breathe and blinking one’s eyes.

 

13:03:12:05:46:16

on the playground they compare.

at seven, no one really understands the weight behind the numbers, but it’s fun to watch the digits go by; their hearts a downbeat to the time signature in their wrists. thirteen years, three months, twelve days, five hours, forty-six minutes, and sixteen seconds. for whatever reason, as children everything’s a competition and changkyun wins because he’s got the shortest amount of time to wait. he couldn't be any happier about that and proudly shows his parents how small those numbers are when he gets home.

 

06:10:28:02:53:22

there are a few, he learns, who’ve been dealt an unlucky hand. some have a wrist of zeroes already, as they’ve met their chosen one but were never able to take advantage of the fleeting moments they were given.

and, the even unluckier ones, born with a number so high they could never possibly meet whoever they were meant to meet within a single lifetime. they never even got a chance.

 

04:07:11:19:27:31

falling in love becomes a curious concept. in high school, people start to date and changkyun can’t fathom why. their timers are still counting down, so what’s it worth? lust for some, maybe. having a hand to hold, even if only for a little while. 

he’s uninterested in it - it feels unpractical, and almost like a betrayal, when he looks down at his timepiece of a birthmark and thinks about the only other person on this planet that sees the exact same number as him.

 

00:11:14:09:36:58

it feels kind of unreal, looking at his timer after it hits the first pair of zeroes. not even a year left -- not even a year left and yet his heart already thrums with anticipation, veins a tidal wave that floods even down to his fingertips.

 

00:05:14:33:51:47

who are they? what are they thinking? what do they look like? what are they hoping for, in him? what do they do for a living?

 

00:03:21:09:25:32

what’s their favorite color? their favorite food? should he prepare something? is it even possible to do so? are they preparing something?

 

00:02:19:10:11:51

it’s winter. ice coats the ground and changkyun falls flat on his ass - his tailbone aches for weeks and he kind of wonders if his soulmate can feel it, wherever they might be. if they’re connected through time, then maybe they’re connected through something more. cheesy, maybe, but he'd like to think as much.

 

00:00:01:48:12:55

what is he supposed to say? “hello” seems too simple, but anything more seems too intimate. 

smile and wave, or wave and smile? 

what if he’s in a busy place and he won’t be able to figure out which of the many people around is the exact one he’s looking for?

what if he ends up like one of those with nothing to show but zeroes? those who general society pities? eternally lonely? forever having to live knowing they could have been a fraction happier?'

 

00:00:00:02:31:16

when he wakes up on the final morning his mind is oddly devoid of questions. funny, considering the way he was all but plagued with them since six months ago.

after dragging himself out of bed he forces himself through his usual morning routine; wander through the kitchen as if there might actually be something to find, wander back to the bathroom to wash up, and then back to the kitchen once more to settle for burnt toast and watery coffee. 

if he doesn’t glance at his wrist, it feels like a normal day.

he gets dressed, and as an afterthought, throws on a button-up over dark wash jeans to at least pretend, upon a first meeting, that he actually knows how to dress himself like any other fashionable human being. 

 

00:00:00:01:52:42

if he just stands here and never leaves the house, will the numbers slow down? stop completely? does fate take into account the fact that someone might try to cheat the system?

but to be honest, changkyun’s too much of a chicken to play trial and error - he’s waited twenty years for this, after all, and he wouldn’t dare chance anything going wrong. as apathetic as he seems on the outside, he actually gives a damn or two.

 

00:00:00:00:34:11

so he leaves the house as previously planned, and heads off to work. as he lives just on the outskirts of the city he’s got a bit of a drive and it takes anything and everything in him not to look at his clock, not to look at his clock, not to look at his clock.

focus on driving, don’t look at the clock. don’t look. don’t think about looking. winter driving is the worst driving, after all. focus on that. not on the thirty minutes left to wait. focus. don’t look.

 

00:00:00:00:12:53

he’s about to enter what may be the most important ten minutes of his life, but something different’s in the air. it’s almost so lackluster it hurts - the scene’s terribly mundane, a wintry morning seeing changkyun on his daily commute to work.

tempted as he is to stop and pull over, see if that might bring anyone’s attention to him, he refrains from rash decisions though he swears he’s the king of rash decisions sometimes.

 

00:00:00:00:10:00

well, here goes nothing.

 

00:00:00:00:09:12

for some reason unexplained, he turns off the car radio. like he needs to feel everything. taste everything. see everything. hear everything. his knuckles are white.

 

00:00:00:00:08:07

in eight minutes and seven seconds, changkyun’s timer will stop to rest and never get back up again but by then he should have met the love of his life.

 

00:00:00:00:07:19

will they fit under his shoulders when they hug, or will he fit under theirs?

 

00:00:00:00:06:11

snow’s coming down hard out of nowhere - it floats in flurries as if aristocrats in big dresses, trying to figure out where to settle.

 

00:00:00:00:05:13

he can feel his palms getting sweaty already. is his soulmate just as nervous? changkyun can’t be the only one. can he?

 

00:00:00:00:04:31

unconsciously, he speeds up in his anxiety. ten over in mid-december has never been a good idea, but there’s too much else on his mind and there’s no one else on the road to care.

 

00:00:00:00:03:14

his heart pounds in his chest like fists beating at a cage. 

drive. don’t mind the clock. fate will take care of the rest.

 

00:00:00:00:02:32

how is he to meet anyone when he’s stuck inside this box of a car?

 

00:00:00:00:01:04

time drags on and speeds by at the same time. too slow, too fast. he’s not ready, but he’s ready.

and then it happens.

there’s no angels singing in the background, no heavenly light cast upon the one person the earth granted to him as reward for being born. no bursts of glitter, no silver strings at his chest, no harps or cupids or magical beings wishing him well on his journey as the whole he’s been half of for twenty years until now.

instead.

in a symphony of devastating sound comes the bass crunch of metal as it accordion folds in an almost comical way, soprano shattering glass to cut skin, alto screeching of tires, all accompanied by an airbag’s punch to the face and all changkyun’s previous worries left forgotten.

seconds slug past as the twenty-year-old all but falls out of his car, frozen pavement digging into his knees. the other vehicle is in no better shape than his own, half in a ditch on the wrong side of the road.

he stumbles forwards. crawls. 

aside from a bloody nose and blurry vision, changkyun thinks he’s fine. but he has to see if whoever else is okay. calling the police doesn’t even register in his brain, not even when he’s dragging himself up to look through the remnants of the driver side window.

a male inside, maybe his age. maybe a little older. thin eyes closed, lashes resting still upon the pillows of pale cheekbones. crimson mats the boy’s hair and paints the rest of him a picture changkyun never wanted to see. 

with a careful reach through the gaping jaws of broken glass changkyun checks for a pulse. after finding nothing, he notices with startling clarity through choppy bits of sound and vision, open o’s as if his own skin were mocking him. 

so winter gets just a little bit colder.

 

00:00:00:00:00:00


End file.
